


Nights Like These

by aliensaregay



Category: The Lorien Legacies - All Media Types, The Lorien Legacies - Pittacus Lore
Genre: Adam can play the piano and Nine plays guitar, Adam forces his tea addiction on the others, Couch Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, I almost vomited while writing this bc it's too cute, John loves scented candles, M/M, Multi, i still don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25228909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliensaregay/pseuds/aliensaregay
Summary: The boys have a well-needed night to themselves.
Relationships: Adamus Sutekh/Stanley Worthington | Number Nine, John Smith | Number Four/Adamus Sutekh, John Smith | Number Four/Adamus Sutekh/Stanley Worthington | Number Nine, John Smith | Number Four/Stanley Worthington | Number Nine
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	Nights Like These

**Author's Note:**

> A fic? For the first time since 2018? Who am I?? 
> 
> But in all seriousness this may not be too coherent but I had a deadline to uphold and a craving for some extra stohndam. Keep bugging me and I just might upload the ten other fics sitting in my google docs.

John is the most content he's felt in a while— with his head propped up on Nine's warm and thankfully muscular chest, listening to his other boyfriend play a slow, sweet tune across a polished grand piano. Nine idly runs his fingers through the blond chaos with one hand while the other traces lazy circles on the back of John’s hand splayed out on Nine’s abdomen. He could fall asleep, but he doesn't want to cut this evening short. 

One of those scented candles lights up the room along with a small lamp or two, bathing the apartment in a soft, warm hue. Being the pyromaniac of the three, John wasn’t going to settle for a simple bundle of incense as a replacement for one of the only types of flames legally allowed indoors. All it took was Sam gifting John one for Christmas for the Garde to build an obsession. To Nine and Adam’s annoyance, Sam continued to send John any new scents he found. 

As a compromise, the maximum number of scented candles to be lit at one time was two. Right now, they had only one left, giving Adam no reason to complain. His focus is anyways drawn to the particularly lengthy piano piece he plays from memory, fingers gliding over the keys with rehearsed ease, breathing his unique life into the sound of the music. 

“Play that one crazy song,” Nine remarks as soon as the final few notes fade out. Adam half-turns in place on the piano stool, one eyebrow raised. 

“Chopin in A minor?” 

Nine shrugs. “I think so.” 

“Why?” he asks. 

“It’s too peaceful. We’re gonna fall asleep here.” 

Adam snorts. “Only you would complain about it being too peaceful.” Nonetheless, he rotates back to face the keys. He had an audience to please, after all. 

Starting out with a deceivingly calm, repeated chord progression, Adam pauses briefly before launching into the next bar of Chopin’s almost unnecessarily complicated descending scale, accompanied by a left hand melody. The two Garde are mesmerized. 

As the last chord tapers off, John wiggles out of Nine’s embrace in order to face Adam. Once he settles, Nine slides his arms around John’s waist and buries his face in the back of his shirt, the clingy bastard. 

“How long did it take to learn that one?” John asks, unaware of the creases in his cheek from being half-conscious on the couch for the past hour. 

A shadow fleetingly crosses Adam’s face. “A couple years. But you know, anything other than fighting or being generally useful to the empire was unnecessary, so I learned as much as I could without dad finding out. It was a good distraction, for a while." 

John and Nine are silent. Knowing as soon as the words left his mouth, Adam reddens and gives a half-hearted smile. "Not to dampen the mood or anything," he adds sheepishly. 

John shakes his head. "It's okay. I just wanted to see if I had a chance to catch up."

“Well, even the easiest of pieces would require a background of technique and knowledge of theory, so unless you want to employ me as a full-time teacher, it would take—” 

“Teach me some chords?” John interrupts. 

"Okay. Come up here." Apparently caving to the request, Adam scoots to his left to make room for the Garde to sit. John stands up with difficulty, since Nine clings to the back of his shirt as if it were his own lifeline. Eventually John coaxes the fabric out of his boyfriend's fingers and walks over to the cushioned bench. With his arms still extended, Nine pouts. 

"So let's start out with a C major chord. Lay your fingers on the keys like this…" He takes John's left hand in his own and adjusts the position of his fingers until he’s satisfied. John's brows furrow in concentration as Adam guides him through the first couple of basic chords. He can't figure out an appropriate pressure— he either presses way too hard, causing Adam's ears to ring, or not hard enough, causing the Mog to shake his head, bemused. 

"With your left hand, you're going to play the notes on the bass clef staff, which is on the bottom—" Adam points to the sheet music propped up on the wooden surface of the piano, "—so the whole chord will sound like this." He rolls a C major chord, starting with his left hand and ending with a flourish with his right. 

“Wow,” John breathes. Color rises to Adam’s cheeks. 

“Uh—” Adam shifts over to allow John to get in position. “Here. You try.” 

It’s clumsy and has none of the smooth professional sound that Adam has, but it’s the correct notes and rhythm. John’s able to pick up the first three basic chords; C major, D and G, while adding the bass clef notes with his left hand. 

“Okay, now practice transitioning from each chord. That way when you’re comfortable, we can add extra notes, depending on the feel.” 

Tongue trapped between his teeth in concentration, John rolls each chord in succession as Adam nods along to his movements. Finally, he’s able to play the trio of chords without pausing or hitting a wrong note. John looks up and beams at Adam. 

"Wow babe, you should audition for the symphony," Nine pipes up from the couch with a cheeky grin. John tosses a pillow at him with his mind and Nine chuckles as he deflects it with his forearm. 

"Why don't you make yourself useful? Go make some tea," Adam says, turning his head, eyebrows raised. 

Nine groans and dramatically rolls off the couch cushions onto the floor. As soon as he disappears into the kitchen Adam and John both snicker. John leans to his side heavily, bracing himself on Adam’s shoulder as he often likes to do. 

“So…” John began. “You’re not teaching me anything applicable to any of the stuff you just played, huh?” 

“No,” Adam admits. “Reading sheet music takes time, and I didn’t want to steer in that direction. Plus, you’re cute when you’re focusing.” 

John squints at him. “You can get away with it this time, just for that. I’m onto you, Adam.” 

“I know.” The Mog kisses John’s temple with a smile. 

Nine pokes his head around the corner of the kitchen into the living room, biting his lip. "Hey uhh… so I may have fucked up the tea." 

John’s expression twists into smug amusement . "It's tea, Nine. How did you manage to screw it up? You boil water and stick a tea bag in. It's not rocket science." 

"I didn't see the bags so I used the loose dry stuff Adam keeps in bougey-looking bags in the pantry." 

Adam eyes him skeptically. "Did you use an infuser?"

"An infu— what?" 

Adam drags a hand over his face and sighs. "So you dumped my expensive loose leaf tea into microwaved water. Awesome." 

"How was I supposed to know I needed a confuser?" 

"Infuser. Dumbass." 

"If you're so smart, do it yourself, like you always do." 

Adam shakes his head exasperatedly and stands up from the seat. It drags across the floor with and unpleasant scraping noise. "Fine. I'll take over drink duty, and you pull out your guitar because I think John'll just about melt if someone doesn't play something for him right now." 

"Drink duty? Damn, Sutekh, if you wanted a martini I would've been more than happy to flex my bartending skills." 

"Just tea, you idiot," Adam responds with a small smile, pushing past him into the kitchen. "Might I remind you it's 10 o'clock on a Wednesday night." 

John perks up from his spot at the piano to look at Nine. "You can play guitar?" he asks with wide eyes. 

"Of course Johnny, I'm not all just dashing good looks, big brains and a charismatic personality. I'm a man of many talents." 

"You forgot greasy hair!" Adam shouts from the kitchen, with the sound of the sink water running. Nine shoots a dirty look at the wall that separated the two rooms, but says nothing. He shuffles over to the side of the sofa, and pulls a sturdy leather guitar case from behind the large piece of furniture. John is bewildered— where did it come from, and why hasn’t he noticed it before? Laying it on the carpet, he unclasps the metal locks on it and pulls out the instrument. In no time he’s fiddling with the turning machines, tuning the strings. 

"Can you give me an E?" Nine asks the blond without looking away from his guitar. John turns to the piano behind him and scratches his head. 

"Umm…" 

Nine raises his head and smirks. "The white one after the set of two black keys." 

"I knew that." John presses down on the key with enough beginner's enthusiasm to make Adam audibly cringe from the next room over. Nine finishes tuning the rest of the strings and strums a chord to test the sound. It echoes throughout the apartment with a smooth warmth that John couldn't begin to explain— or perhaps he’s just too whipped at this point to form coherent thoughts. He is focused on the way Nine grips the pick in his prosthetic fingers with familiar ease, hovering over the metal strings, as well as the dip in his thigh where the wooden instrument is tucked. 

"Requests?" 

John didn't notice Nine had asked him a question. The taller Garde smiles when he notices the look plastered all over his boyfriend's face— he’s practically glowing with admiration and fondness. Nine whistles to get his attention, and the blond's gaze snaps back up to meet his eyes. Nine chuckles and leans over his guitar to give John a soft, lingering kiss. John lifts his hands to lightly cup the other's face. 

"All right lovebirds, leaf juice is ready." Adam walks back in the room sporting three steaming cups of freshly brewed chamomile tea. He sets them on the coffee table and stoops down to peck Nine on the forehead before sitting cross-legged next to his blond boyfriend. 

"You spoil us, Adamus Sutekh," John says, pressing a kiss to his pale cheek. Adam flushes at the neck, but tries to pass it off as if it were from the hot tea. He feels John lean towards him, so he unfolds his legs and pats his lap. The blond lowers his head onto the Mog's thighs with a smile. Adam blinks at Nine, who’s still sat at the head of the couch, poised at the strings. 

"Well?" Adam muses. 

"No one answered me." 

"What did you ask?" 

"I asked for song requests." 

Adam taps a finger on the side of his jaw in deep thought. "I… can't think of anything." The Mog is gently running his fingers through John's hair. 

“Adam doesn’t listen to pop music,” John explains. 

“Why would I waste my time listening to auto-tuned garage band tracks with a royalty free beat and a melody based around four chords—” John cuts Adam off with a look. He scowls. “You know what I mean.” 

“I can’t believe you would think I play covers of pop songs anyway, Johnny.” 

“Well excuse me for contributing to the conversation.” 

Adam clears his throat. “You were going to play something?” he asks Nine. 

“If no one has any ideas, I’ll play one of my own songs,” Nine says, faking a begrudging sigh. John brightens at the idea of Nine singing an original song, and he settles down comfortably in the crease of Adam’s thighs. Adam cradles his still steaming cup of tea, taking occasional sips. 

"Well serenade us, Nine," Adam teases. Nine sticks his tongue out at him. 

"Do you want a song or not?" 

"Please," the Mog replies more seriously. 

Nine clears his throat and begins a slow waltz on the guitar, paired with sweet lyrics in a baritone range. Adam and John break out into warm smiles at the sound of Nine's rich, warm voice working in tandem with the skillfully plucked guitar. 

Finishing one song, Nine wastes no time transitioning into another, leaving the two boys with no time to take a break from swooning. Eventually Nine strums a chord to resolve the last bar, and lets his right arm dangle for a moment before tossing his pick into its case, setting the instrument in after. He then shifts closer to the coffee table and grabs his mug by the handle to take a drink. 

The three bask in the comfortable silence for a few moments, periodically taking swigs of tea as it cools off slowly. Adam’s fingers are still at the crown of John’s head, massaging the untamed locks in a soothing rhythm. 

After a while, John speaks up. "I swear, you two have an obsession with my hair or something." 

Nine and Adam exchange a look over his head. "What makes you think that?" Adam mumbles, absent-mindedly twirling a few blond strands around his index finger. John rolls his eyes.

The gentle patter of rain draws the dark-haired boys’ attention to the window, where trickles of water race down the outside of the glass. Accompanying the warm, low lighting in the apartment and the steaming cups of tea, it’s practically a scene straight out of an indie movie. 

Adam squints suspiciously at the boy in his lap. “Is this you?” he asks, the corner of his mouth perked up. John shakes his head. 

“Oh come on. You always get that look on your face when using Six’s legacy,” Nine scoffs. 

John sighs. “Okay, you caught me. Seeing as I can’t play sonatas on the piano or perform original songs I thought the least I could do was add to the ambience.” 

Adam frowns. “Hey. Just because you don’t play an instrument doesn’t mean we don’t want you here.” He tucks a lock of hair behind John’s ear. 

“Yeah don’t get all insecure on us, because you know what you get when that happens,” Nine pipes up, shifting closer to the other two with a glint in his eyes. 

John warily scoots away from his advancing boyfriends. 

“Oh no you don’t. Adam, get him!” 

Before John could get very far, Adam tackles him to the ground and pins him with his arms encircling his waist. In seconds, Nine is on top of him as well, planting wet, loud kisses all over his face. John shrieks and throws his hands up in defense but Nine quickly secures both wrists by his sides, leaving Adam free to join in on the attack. 

“Ack!” John cries out in vain, view completely shrouded by two heads of raven-colored hair. “No more!” he wheezes, still unable to protect himself from his boyfriends’ affection. The two finally end their assault with one final slobbery peck to each cheek. 

“Ew.” John feigns disgust as he wipes his face with the palm of his hand and makes a show of dragging it over Nine’s shoulder. Nine retaliates by unabashedly licking a stripe up the cheek that John just wiped clean. 

“Oh, you’re on.” John lunges for the other Garde’s forearms and tries to immobilize him on the ground. Nine grins and works to evade the assault. 

While the Garde wrestling on the carpet, Adam clears the empty mugs from the table and brings them to the sink. On his way back he closes the piano lid before sitting back down. John has Nine facedown, his arms restrained under his stomach under John’s weight on his lower back. 

Casually, John stifles a yawn with his right hand. “Anyone else ready for bed?” 

Adam snatches his phone from the coffee table and presses the power button, checking the time. “Damn. Almost midnight.” 

“Since when did we become the type of people with a sleep schedule?” Nine snorts. 

Ignoring him, Adam heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. John stands up and stretches, a few vertebrae audibly popping. Nine’s face scrunches up in annoyance at the disturbing sound and John chuckles. 

“If you’re not tired, I guess I’ll save my spooning for Adam tonight then,” John chides with a smug grin. Nine glares at him. John winks and follows Adam through the ajar bedroom door. “Don’t forget to blow out the candles and turn off the lights,” he calls out. Nine shakes his head but heaves himself to his feet nonetheless. 

After a few minutes of practiced maneuvering around between the bathroom and bedroom, changing clothes and before-bed bathroom activities, John finally flicks off the light and the three boys crawl into bed. 

Clambering under the covers first, Adam lays on his side and opens his arms for John to crawl into. Nine follows, pressing close to the other two while tangling his legs with John’s and intertwining his fingers with Adam’s. 

“Aww. It’s a John Smith sandwich,” Nine coos. John elbows him. 

“Shut up.” 

None of them said a word for a while, content in the darkened room with the only sound coming from their even breaths. Even after barely a month, the three boys had established a kind of support system. They could finally begin to heal, finding a source of happiness in their connection. 

“Can we have nights like these all the time from now on?” Nine murmurs in a hushed tone. 

“Always,” Adam replies just as softly.


End file.
